


In The Moonlight

by abigail89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Fluff, Orgy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-War, Rimming, The Quidditch Pitch: More Than Two, Threesome, Threesome or Moresome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-21
Updated: 2007-08-21
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:53:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89
Summary: Playtime is always better in the moonlight.





	In The Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
> **Author's notes:**
> 
> Written for the Pimp My 3Some comm on LJ July 2007.
> 
> Beta'ed by the fabulous empathic_siren. Thank you!
> 
> Oh, go on--read it. You know you're just dying to know if Horace is sexy. :D
> 
>  
> 
> *~* 

Harry Potter walks down the hall, books and rolls of parchment in his arms. It’s another busy night of reading and preparing for classes.

As he passes the Transfiguration classroom, he remembers he needs to speak to Professor McGonagall about booking the pitch for extra Quidditch practise on Tuesday. The Gryffindors are facing a surprisingly tough Ravenclaw, and he wants to make sure his team is in top form. And he needs to check on a new maneuver he read about in the latest issue of _Quidditch Monthly._

He enters the classroom and heads for McGonagall’s office, conveniently located between the classroom and her private quarters. Harry muses on the fact that the castle always seems to place the heads of Houses just far enough away from their charges to allow mischief-makers to clear away evidence of unauthorized parties and smuggled firewhisky bottles.

Harry raises his hand to knock on the office door, shifting his book load to his hip, and the top book falls to floor; sheaths of parchment stuck in between the pages to mark essential passages scatter across the cold rock.

“Bugger!” Harry mutters, annoyed. He stoops to gather up the mess when he hears a strange sound.

It’s far away, or so he thinks, but the groan—no, a moan—comes through the office door.

Quickly, Harry drops the rest of the books and pulls out his wand. A moan can mean many things, but coming from Minerva McGonagall’s office can mean only one thing.

_Danger._

Harry hears the moan—no, this time it’s a groan—well, more like a pained moan, as he casts _Alohomora_! The lock tumbles open, and he pushes slowly on the door.

The professor’s office is quiet and still. The mostly full moon shines through the top windows, casting everything in an ethereal glow. Shadows from knick-knacks and statues sitting on pedestals and spindle-legged tables create a monster theatre of weird shapes. In the gloaming he sees a strip of yellow glow, indicating a room beyond the office space—the professor’s private quarters. Harry moves slowly through the office, taking care not to kick furniture. He is ridiculously thankful the space is tidy.

 

He opens his mouth to call out to her, but then he hears a low gasp. Not a gasp of nasty shock nor one of inflicted pain, but one of dazed pleasure, the kind that burrows deeply into the primal part of one’s brain to make one shiver in unexpected ways and cause unwelcome reactions in certain body parts. For Harry, that certain body part, already at half-staff due to several days of inactivity, jumps to near-full hardness. If he had had the presence of mind to be annoyed, he would have, but his curiosity drives him onward. He pats the questing head down mindlessly.

“Oh! Oh, Minnie!”

_Minnie?_ he thinks. _Since when is Professor McGonagall called ‘Minnie’?_

The moaning voice is familiar, though Harry is quite sure he’s never heard any—teacher?—sound so—so in the throes of … lust? passion? He’s heard that sound coming from behind closed curtains in the dorms, sofas in the common room, doors of disused broom cupboards and dark classrooms. But never from a teacher’s quarters….

Of course he’s not had much experience with passion in teacher’s quarters. It is entirely possible for a teacher to do…that. He shudders as he imagines Filch with a hard-on and Madam Pince with a glistening cunt.

His erection falters.

Another gasping exclamation--“Oh, Merlin. They’re…they’re beautiful”—draws Harry’s attention—and cock—to the closed door before him.

His inquisitiveness overwhelms him. He raises his wand and murmurs, ’ _Revelato!’_ The door goes transparent, and he stares at the scene before him.

A large bed dominates the room. The odd fact that it is located in what appears to be the main living area does not enter Harry’s mind. It is a standard Hogwarts four-poster, only bigger, and covered in deep red brocade and a few animal skins.

In the middle is a pale, corpulent figure, a man, with an impressive gut lies on the bed, his arms outstretched and bound to the posts.

_Oh, dear god_ , Harry boggles. _It’s… no, it can’t… it is…._

Out of the shadows walks a tall, dark haired woman, clothed in naught but a long, black robe. She walks around the bed. Harry strains to make out who the woman is, but in what remains of his rational mind, he knows it must be…

In the dim light cast by candles, she slowly allows the robe to fall away from her shoulders

Harry gasps. _Holy fucking gods. Prof…She—Christ…She’s—got—tits! Big ones. And…things…at…the ends…_

His erection returns, full force. 

He’s trying to find the strength to look away but can’t. His eyes follow every sinewy move as she continues to walk around the bed. She’s talking to the man trussed up there, and Harry strains to hear what she’s saying. Finally, Harry looks at the face of the man whose rather impressive purple cock is jutting up just even with the rise of his belly.

Harry’s erection flags.

It is more heinous than even the mental image of Filch and Pince doing the bump-and-grind. More gut wrenching than imagining Hagrid stretched out naked on his bearskin rug in front of the fireplace grooming his leg hairs. Harry had had nightmares about that for weeks on end.

Because nothing could be worse than watching Minerva McGonagall prepare to fuck Horace Slughorn.

She shakes her long hair, dark and lush, off her shoulders,. Harry stares at her, slackjawed, mesmerized by the swaying curtain of hair and her still fairly trim figure. _Whoever thought an older woman couldn’t be sexy hasn’t been paying attention_ , rose up into his conscious mind.

Harry palms his once more hardening cock. She stretches in the candlelight, and runs a hand over her stomach and into the small thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs. He rubs in concert with her hand. 

As she walks and touches herself, she trails her fingers along Slughorn’s form, making him shiver visibly.

Harry imagines those fingers on his flesh, feels the scrape of her nails lightly across his arm, just as she touches Slughorn’s.

Then, she nimbly slides up on the bed, and she leans over Slughorn, whispering in his ear. He quivers.

Harry frantically thinks what spell he can use to hear what is going on between the two, and then remembers! He reaches into the inside pocket of his robes and extracts an Extendable Ear. Eagerly, he jams the small end of it into his ear and carefully presses the large part to the door…

“You know what will make me happiest, Horace?” Minvera McGonagall says into the man’s ear. 

“Wh-what?”

“If you allow me to make your cock more…interesting.”

“In-interesting?”

“Yes. You see, I like the feel of a large stud in my…”

“S-s-st-stud? What’s that?”

“Oh, just a bit of silver. It will be painless, I promise.”

Slughorn’s face turns white. “M-Minnie! You want to … you want to pierce my wee Mister Sluggy?”

She laughs. “Is that what its name is? Men have the most amusing names for their penises. But yes, I shall use my best healing magic.”

His eyes widen. “Absolutely not! I like it the way it is. It’s served me well just like this.” His voice becomes indignant. “I’ll not have you doing anything to it for a one-off…”

“Ah, dear Horace. It is lovely, of a good size and length,” she says stroking it. “But I like it with a bit more, if you know what I mean.”

Harry is furiously stroking his own cock in time with her hand on Slughorn’s cock. If he had had a mind, the similarities would’ve made him ill.

She releases him, turns, and swallows Slughorn’s cock—which is admittedly of a good size and length—in inches. Harry watches her throat work as it takes him in.

Slughorn is nearly writhing as he’s being fellated, but then he stops.

Minerva has taken up her wand and as she pulls off his cock, she quickly casts a spell Harry doesn’t catch, and a large silver stud appears in ‘Mister Sluggy’.

Slughorn howls, but Minvera quickly takes him in her mouth again, her wand working in a small pattern near her mouth. The man ceases to shake.

“My—it’s—it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he says unevenly. 

“Of course not. I told you my healing magic is especially good. Now, let’s try it out.”

She swings her leg over Slughorn’s hips and centers herself over his now pierced cock. She lowers onto it.

Harry watches as she throws her head back in ecstasy. She looks as though she is enjoying the first thrust; she takes her time sliding down on the long member. Harry is amazed. Slughorn is gasping.

  
The clouds move and the moonlight streams in through the window, flooding the room with its silvery glow. Her skin comes alive in the hoary radiance; it outlines the cords in her neck. But what catches his eye are the winking crystals that hang from fine chains off the silver circles on each of her nipples. They swung with each thrust, throwing minute reflections around the room.

_Oh, sweet Merlin_.  
  
Harry's hand moves faster on his aching cock. He cannot believe he is watching his prim and proper professor, complete with nipple piercings, fucking his fussy, recently cock-pierced Potions professor.

And he’s enjoying it, so much so that he emits an appreciative moan.

Minerva’s head turns towards him. “I do believe,” she says softly, “we have a visitor, Horace.” She stops.

Slughorn gasps again. “Woman! What are you doing? Why have you…”

She picks up her wand and waves it at the door. Harry’s spells collapses and the door bangs open. He is standing in the entryway, his hand on his exposed cock. His tie is crooked.

“P-p-professor!” he stammers.

“Mr. Potter, come here.”

Harry finds his feet moving one in front of the other, his hand quietly holding his still-hard cock. If he had had a mind, he would’ve been mortified. As it is, he finds his mind completely blank.

“H-Harry?” Slughorn croaks.

Harry only looks at him, eyes wide and unblinking behind his glasses. Minerva is still sitting on Slughorn.

“Mr. Potter,” she says in a low, precise voice, “what are you doing here?”

He swallows noisily, his eyes focusing on her face rather than her silver and crystal-decorated nipples on large breasts. “I-I-I…I don’t remember now.”

She gives him a feral smile. “Then would you like to join us?”

“Join us, Professor?”

“W-why is he…” Slughorn says.

“Strip, Mr. Potter.”

As if under the Imperius Curse--if he could have been placed under Imperius--Harry mechanically removes his robes, shoes, trousers, tie and shirt. He stands before her in boxers and socks, covering his now softened member with his hands.

“Everything.”

Harry latches onto her bemused gaze, unable to look at anything else, as he slowly wriggles out of his underclothes. Completely nude, he straightens, and boldly, maybe stupidly, removes his hand from in front of his cock.

“Well, well, Mr. Potter. I see I’m not the only one who enjoys a bit of body jewelry.” She licks her lips.

Harry shakes himself free of her gaze, and gives her a soft grin. “I kind of like it.” He takes the head of his penis, encircled by a studded ring, in his hand. “And”—he blushes—“my partners have as well.”

“You are having sex, Mr. Potter?” Minerva arches one eyebrow.

“Well, yeah,” Harry says somewhat unnerved. “I am of age, you know.”

“Then what we are doing is of no surprise,” she purrs. “Come here.”

Harry steps to the bed. Up close, it’s even bigger than he thought, more than enough room to accommodate three people.

He climbs up, ignoring Slughorn. “What would you like for me to do, P-p-professor?” he asks shyly, as his eyes drop to her breasts.

She notices and gives a small wiggle. The crystals on the end of fine silver chains, hanging off of delicate rings, sparkle in the moonlight. “They are pretty, are they not?

“Yesss,” he says, transfixed.

“You may touch them.”

Harry reaches out and gently caresses her nipples. They instantly pebble at his touch. He pulls oh-so carefully on the rings. 

“Oh, yes,” she purrs, “that’s very nice. You have a lovely touch, Mr. Potter.”

“Harry,” he whispers automatically. “If you’re going to touch—touch me—you’d better call me Harry.”

“Harry it is, then,” she answers, taking his once again hard cock in her hand, fingering the studded ring. “This is going to feel marvelous.”

“So I’ve been told.”

They touch each other, growing more responsive and aroused. A small “Ahem” interrupts them.

“Um…I’m still here,” Slughorn says.

“Oh, you are. I still have use of you,” Minerva says forcefully. “I must say, Horace, I’m impressed you’re still with me.” She rocks her hips, testing his stiffness.

“Well,” he chuckles, “I’ve this very nice tight young arse in my face.”

Harry’s hands go still on Minerva’s rings. She gives Harry an encouraging smile.

“Would…would you like to touch me, Professor?” Harry says, looking over his shoulder.

“Oh, yes I would,” Slughorn says lasciviously, “though I don’t ordinarily go in for men.” Harry shakes his arse. “But Minerva will have to release me from the bonds.”

Minerva wordlessly waves her wand at the head of the bed. “Ah, much better,” Slughorn says. After a moment, Harry feels the older man’s clammy hands on his backside. He flexes his muscles, which elicits another chuckle. “Very, very nice.”

The three pet and fondle each other, Harry gaining confidence. He tweaks Minerva’s nipples, pulling more forcefully on her nipple rings. 

She gives a gasp. “That’s right.” The hand on Harry’s cock becomes more insistent. Her free hand drifts to her center, a finger slides into the hair and folds.

“Allow me?” Harry says.

His hand replaces hers, finding a hardened nub just at the top of her softness. He notes with impressive glee she has a clit ring as well, so he pulls on it. She shudders. “Just like that, Harry. Merlin, yes!” She bucks.

As Minerva becomes more vocal, Slughorn’s hand slides into the crevice of Harry’s arse. Harry leans forward to give him access. Slughorn is clumsy as he timidly explores, obviously not knowing what to do. Harry straddles his corpulent body, though he has to squat to accommodate the girth. Though Harry is in excellent condition, he legs shakes with the effort.

“I can’t do this,” Harry grits, though he’s sorry because Slughorn is fondling his bollocks superbly. “He’s too big. But god, it feels good what he’s doing.”

Minerva takes Harry’s hands. “It’s all right. Would you like to play with him for a while?”

“Really? Harry lights up. “What about you?”

“I’ll enjoy watching from right here.” She pats the bed. “Give me a good show.”

Harry dismounts from Slughorn and spins around. He gives Slughorn a cheering smile, and asks Minerva, “Does he like to be dominated?”

“Yes, he does. He loves it.”

“Trust me?” he says to Slughorn.

The older man nods.

"Up!" Harry growls, warming to his new-found role.  
  
"Wha--?"  
  
"I said, UP!"  
  
Slughorn scrambles up. "Wha--what d-do you want me to do?"  
  
"Hands. Knees. Show me your arse."  
  
He stares, eyes bugging.  
  
Harry gives him a hard stare. "NOW!"  
  
He lowers himself onto his hands, his knees cracking. "I don't...."  
  
"Shut it." Harry cocks his head to one side, then runs his hand down the man's fleshy arse. "Have you ever been rimmed?" he purrs.  
  
"N-no."  
  
Harry grins. "Then this will be something unlike you've ever experienced." He leans over and wags a studded tongue in the trembling man's face. "And you'll love it."

Slughorn sags. “Sweet fucking Merlin. You’re going to kill me.”

“No one has ever died by rimming,” Harry says, holding out his hand for Minerva’s wand. “Well, no one I know has.”

“You-you’ve done this?”

“Of course.”

“H-Harry! What goes on in your….”

“Quiet.” Harry casts _Scourgify_ on Slughorn’s arse, causing the older man to squeal and shake. 

Harry spreads the beefy cheeks. “Are you ready?” Slughorn can only squeak.

He licks gently, giving his rimming virgin ample time to adjust to the unfamiliar feeling of a tongue on untouched flesh. Slughorn trembles at each swipe.

Finally convinced the man won’t collapse and is enjoying the new sensations, judging from the squeaks and squeals above, Harry burrows his tongue into the puckered entrance, running the stud around and around the sensitive skin.

“Oh god, it’s too much. I’m going to…”

Without warning a mass of come shoots forth, Slughorn’s prick untouched. Harry continues to lave the man’s hole until he’s convinced the orgasm has finished.

“Dear god, I haven’t—done that—since I—was a lad,” Slughorn pants. “Come without--touching or--being touched. That was—disturbingly—brilliant.”

And he drops off with a snore.

Harry and Minerva, who has been quietly watching and touching herself, look at each other, then the sleeping man. “Well, that was disappointing,” Harry says.

“But not wholly unexpected,” Minerva says tartly. “I suppose it was too much to ask for from him. I don’t believe Horace has seen much sexual action in these latter years.”

“I imagine not,” Harry says, waving his wand, and then saying, “ _Wingardium Leviosa_! Where shall I place him?”

“On the floor will do nicely. I’ll _Obliviate_ him before the night is out and send him to his rooms through the Floo.”

Harry drops him from a short height onto the floor. “That what he gets for fagging out on us too early.”

“Oh, now, Harry. Don’t fault him. He’s old and out of practice.”

“But you’re not.” Harry takes her hand and pulls her to him. “Nicely done, by the way. I like these crystals”—he fingers one of them to make it sparkle—“they suit you nicely.”

“Mmm…thank you. The tongue stud is new, isn’t it?” She kisses him and Harry thrusts his tongue into her mouth, causing her to shudder. “I’m sure it will feel marvelous on me as well,” she finishes as the kiss ends.

“All for you.”

“And I do like the touch of your playing the role of a blushing student, ‘Mister Potter’,” Minerva says, laying back into a pile of soft pillows and spreading her legs to allow Harry to settle between them. “You haven’t done that for a while. Very enticing.”

He laughs. “I haven’t worn those round glasses for years. Did you see the look on Horace’s face when I came through the door? Priceless, I tell you!” He drops his head to take the nipple ring of her right breast between his teeth, and tugs. She lets out an appreciative sigh. 

“I do so wish you’d let me pierce your nipples,” she says, as she scrapes her nails across his flat chest. His own nipples go hard at her touch. “You’d enjoy it.”

He hums his agreement, but does not speak as he takes the other ring in his hand. He tugs and pulls, causing her to squirm in delight.

With practiced ease, finds her clit with his free hand and strokes it gently. When her moaning becomes louder, he releases the ring and, with a final leering tongue wag at her, he scoots down to latch on with his mouth.

She is more responsive than ever, Harry notes. Over their years as sometimes lovers, Harry has learned this lovely woman enjoys having slow and detailed attention lavished on her. As he rolls his tongue in tight circles around her clit, he is favoured with mewling and incoherent babbling. For his decorous colleague to loose control is his greatest reward.

Then, without warning, a warm hand pulls his hips up, and his cheeks are spread. Harry gives a startled yelp.

“I believe you’ve started without me,” Hoarce Slughorn says with some force. “Not very nice of you.”

“Horace!” Harry says. “We thought you were done for the night.”

“Not hardly. You young bucks think you have the market on sustained activity. _Lubricus!_

 

Harry gasps in extreme excitement. “You’re—“

 

“No, but I do enjoy sex with a man occasionally, especially with one as young and luscious as you are, my dear _Professor_. Slughorn wriggles a finger, then two into Harry’s entrance. “And you are going to be such a treat. So tight and fair, you are.”

 

Harry pushes back onto the fingers. “I can take everything you’ve got, old man.”

 

“And you shall.” Slughorn slicks his raging member and positions it. “You shall pay for your duplicity and your underestimation”—he pushes into Harry, who arches from the sheer pleasure of being filled by the large cock—“of what this old man can do.” He thrusts in and out insistently, working his length into Harry’s willing body. “Christ, you are so fucking tight. You sure you’re not a virgin?”

 

“Not for a very long time,” Harry strangles out. “I just keep things in shape.” He pushes back hard, meeting Slughorn’s choppy thrusts

 

“Ahem.”

 

“Wait! Stop!” Harry gasps. “Sorry, Minerva. Let’s…oh, I see you’ve taken care of it.”

 

She has piled pillows under her hips, raising them for Harry to meet. “I’m hoping you can accommodate me as well.”

 

Harry grins at her. “You know I can.”

 

Minerva takes his hot length and guides it into her waiting entrance. “Then let’s get on with this. I am more than ready. Horace, you must stop to allow him to get settled into me.”

 

Slughorn huffs, but ceases his thrusting. “And it was going so well.”

 

Minerva and Harry look at each other, knowing the other’s thought. “Is this okay? Am I hitting the right place?” Harry says softly to her. He lifts his hips and thrusts into her.

 

“The cock ring is marvelous,” she replies. “Now, Horace, you may proceed.”

 

It takes a moment of Harry training Slughorn to slow his rhythm to match his. But after one frustrating growl, he catches on. 

"You ought to keep the stud, Horace," Harry pants as the older man pounds away. "It'll definitely make you more in demand." 

 

In the rhythm of sex Harry is transported. He concentrates on the feeling of the hardness filling his arse and the unbelievable softness of Minerva’s sex. He leans in and kisses her thoroughly.

 

Suddenly, Slughorn grunts and begins to keen. His breathing is heavy and erratic. Harry knows he has come from the pulsing cock in his arse, and frankly, he’s glad to be rid of the man. He looks at Minerva steadily, communicating his feelings. He slows his activity to allow Slughorn to pull away.

“Merlin, that was excellent,” Slughorn sighs, and he rolls away. “D’you mind if I have a kip in your bedroom, Minnie?”

Harry bites his tongue to stop his laugh from burbling up. Minerva clucks her tongue at him. “Of course not. Do stop by the lavatory and wash up.”

As the older man lumbers away, Harry renews his lovemaking. He kisses her everywhere, flicks his tongue across her nipples and tugs again on her rings. Soon, she is mewling again, fervently meeting his thrusts, arching as she nears completion.

Harry feels his orgasm cresting as she comes. Not one to scream or flail about, Minerva shakes from the force of it, arms outstretched and rigid. Harry thrusts hard several times and he exclaims wordlessly as his washes through him. She kisses him, hard, as if to draw him through the bright power surging in his body.

Panting, they lay in each other’s arms for several minutes. “That was brilliant,” she breathes.

Harry barks a short laugh. “I love it when you give me top marks for my performance.”

Minerva snorts. “It wasn’t an assessment, just a statement of fact.”

Harry rolls off her, and takes her in his arms again, placing his chin on top of her dark haired head. “I know. It was brilliant, wasn’t it?”

“No thanks to our third member, though,” she says with starch in her voice. “He just doesn’t seem to have the knack for this.”

“Not that he remembers what he may have learned from each encounter, though I think it’s time to give him up. Ron will be finished with the Quidditch season soon, and then he’ll be all ours again.”

As they lay on the large bed talking of nothing in particular, the moonlight slowly travels across the room. Candles gutter and spark out. Soon, the room is a smooth darkness. The lovers take leave of their bed and shared warmth, and clear off the evidence of their activities. The comfortable bed returns to its original shape as a divan.

“I shall see to Horace, and send him on his way,” Headmistress Minerva McGonagall says. “Will you check on the hallways when you return to your quarters?”

“Of course,” Professor Harry Potter answers. “I always do.”

He dresses quickly and carefully, Transfigures the round glasses of his student days into an ordinary quill, and returns to the outer office to Summon his dropped pile of books and parchment rolls to his arms.

*~*

Returning to his quarters in the West Tower, he stops along a wide window to gaze at the mostly full moon, and smiles, content. After a time, he continues on. There is much reading to be done to prepare for classes in the morning.

 

*~*

 

 


End file.
